


We loved with a love that was more than love

by savemyunicornclarence



Category: Original Work
Genre: High School, Horses, Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe, M/M, POV First Person, Soulmates, slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:15:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savemyunicornclarence/pseuds/savemyunicornclarence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loosely based off of Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe. </p><p>It was gray. I woke to a gray room. I wore gray clothing. I was gray. There was no color in me, nor in the world surrounding me. A veil of gray blinded me, hindering me from seeing reality, but I did not know that. I knew of this grayness and thought it normal. It was gray, and gray was me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Henry's POV

It was gray. I woke to a gray room. I wore gray clothing. I was gray. There was no color in me, nor in the world surrounding me. A veil of gray blinded me, hindering me from seeing reality, but I did not know that. I knew of this grayness and thought it normal. It was gray, and gray was me. 

I snatched the cold, dry toast and munched on it. I chewed and chewed, so it could at least go down. Dad was working. It didn’t bother me. I was used to it. I pushed open the door to shuffle into the cold wind, fraying at the edges and maliciously caressing my skin. I shivered and pulled my sweater tighter around me. I scowled, mentally noting that I should get a new jacket for the winter. 

On and on I walked, the road stretching for miles before me. Lined by lonely telephone poles jutting out to the sky, breaking the monotony with its sharp shadow. The sepia hills were the wings unfurled on the ground, the sky gray. 

My shoes scraped the ground in its unenthusiastic movement. It was gray, that not even the rising sun could shatter. The frost crunched underneath, the crinkling white extending around me, consuming me in its uneven, grasping hands. 

Miles and miles disappeared.

Sun rose and rose into the sky; leaking edges ripped in the sky, unraveling the delicate stitching. The air was still, not a disturbance to whisper, not a grass unbent. I looked into the horizon. A black shadow grew bigger and bigger. I glanced up at the wall - ivy capering up its side and hugging close to the building, before skittering out of view. 

The low murmurings were cacophonous after a few hours of silence. Noise beat against my eardrums, making my head throb in annoyance. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to adjust. Days (weeks) went by in a silent march. Endless hours of uniformity changed into seven hours blocked into a school day. It was neither here nor there; I did not care about the uniformity or the mindlessness of summer.

Shoes squeaked against the cleaned, shining floor. I grabbed my schedule and planner from a smiling girl and disappeared into the depths of the school. I was in the portion where the other loners and outcasts gathered together to form their own group. I was the outcast of the outcasts. 

~~~  
Weeks went by without breaking the monotony. I could not bother to change it. I had no reason to, so I let it stay and settle as it came. 

It was a shattering moment.

Another gray day. Another gray walk. 

It was in US History class. My notebook was filled with scribbles and barely legible notes. The voice of a teacher flowed past me like water, a brook sliding past me with no resistance. 

“Good morning,” the soft, drawling voice said. It was bright and so sudden that it startled me a bit. I shuffled, embarrassed from my outburst but it bothered no one. I took a quick glance at the stranger, but he was caught by the snares of the popular people. Their bright voices and personalities were suns, unlike my own muted star drifting miles upon miles away, dead. 

“I’m Luka Tate. Nice to meet y’all.”

He gave a brilliant smile, showing off white teeth. It was dazzling. The girls swooned and sighed. They all started whispering and giggling at once. The boys grunted and clapped his shoulder. 

His hazel eyes met mine, and with a startled gasp I averted my eyes away from him. He was a wonderful male specimen of homo sapiens, and already too bright to be in my presence. I dare not sully the light with my own shadows. 

The bell rang with clarity. I shot up from the chair and scampered out of the room. I gasped and rubbed my burning chest. My heart thudded and pumped to an unknown tune. I was confused as to why a stranger would affect me so. I was determined to ignore the unpleasant changes and go through with my life, but it was too late. 

The gray was broken. The shards lay at my feet, as I frantically tried to glue them together with inferior paste. I wanted that grayness back. It was comforting to be confined in its limited walls. It was known territory, and these new feelings were uncomfortable - unknown. 

I packed my backpack and entered the traffic to the door. Even in the winter, it seemed as if all the other people were bright. Their chatterings were meaningless. 

It hurt to be alone. 

I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I bit the inside of my lip, edging away from him and concealing myself with the trees. Their branches reached to the sky, loftily showing their naked branches. The aroma of fall was dragged away by the powerful hands of winter, clean and pure. 

Again, I trudged down the lone road. Isolated and silent, I drifted down it. I never reminded Dad of a new jacket, but I layered my sweaters. It was satisfactory. 

A screeching squeal emanated from behind me. I ignored it. I continued walking, and the squealing remained. It was a constant companion for a mile, before my eardrums threatened to burst in annoyance. I whirled around with furrowed brows. My eyes roved down the sleek body of a 1972 blue Chevy truck. I narrowed my eyes at the unfamiliar sight, yet so familiar and so welcoming. No, I cannot associate with such brightness. 

I nodded my head in a quiet hello. I turned around and continued walking. I heard a door slam and a bit of huffing. 

“Hey! I saw you in history class, didn’t I?” 

I didn’t answer. 

“Quiet guy, yeah?” The kind voice was close to my ear as he followed me. “Brr! It’s cold. I can drive you home if you want. I bet you don’t want to walk in such weather. It’s cold and gray. Dreary. I used to live in Florida. Not the typical Florida of sun and beaches. More of the farming part. Dad had to move here to take care of my Uncle’s farm. He’s ailing.” He rambled and gestured loudly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile and gesture back to his rumbling truck.

“Come on, let me drive you home. It’s warm and faster than walking.” I eyed the truck. I looked down at my shoes. Why was I being stubborn?

“… It’s fine.”

He chuckled and grabbed my arm. I gasped and tried to jerk out of his grip, but he was strong. It was a warm presence against my chilly skin. It rested there for longer than necessary. “It’s going to snow, and I don’t want you to catch a cold!”

“… You don’t know me.”

“So? Doesn’t mean I don’t care.” 

He plopped me in the passenger seat and buckled me in. He hopped in and resumed the car. “Isn’t it a lovely darling? A sweet gift from my Uncle. He said I could fix it up and drive it.”

Silence.

“So … where do you live?”

“Down the road.”

“Not much of a talker, eh? That’s okay. I was often said to be able to fill any room with chatter.” He laughed. “My brother said it is annoying.” He shrugged. 

“What’s your name? I saw you walk out of history class.”

“… Henry.”

“Nice to meet you, Henry! What do you like to do? I like to draw and play the cello.”

I glanced at him. He smiled. “Yea, I ain’t just a farmer boy. Mom was a musician, so she made sure I can play many instruments, but the cello is my favorite.” I nodded. Secretly (or not secretly), I desired to play an instrument, but Dad was far too busy with work, and money was tight. I nodded though and twiddled with my fingers. 

This had never happened before. I was always left alone to walk that lonely road. I focused my gaze outside the window, seeing the grass and the poles, but the landscape slipped my mind - the details not sharp. His voice seeped into me with a warm tingle. I pushed away my feelings. It was an unknown feeling this was. I gestured for him to stop at a road hidden away by weeds except for a small trail. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Henry! And call me Luca.” He waved a cheerful goodbye and drove away. I walked down the decline, trailing my fingers across the surface of the tall grass. I blushed. He was kind. Luca. My face twitched with the need to smile, but I haven’t smiled in weeks. 

“Dad? You’re here?” I called out, not expecting an answer, but today was a day filled with changes. In the back of my mind, I registered an itching at the changes. It felt right, but I couldn’t help the sense of wrongness. 

“Henry.” 

“Hello, Dad.”

Gray eyes pierced me, like a spear with no form. “How was your day?” I asked.

“Adequate.”

Dad turned around and retreated in his study. That was the first time I spoke with Dad in days. I dumped my backpack on the table and went to the fridge. I threw together a sandwich. I also retreated up to my room. I left my backpack on the floor and sat on my bed. I thought over my day. 

It was the same. Then Luca Tate came, and colors mixed in cloying clarity. I traced the part where he touched me. I groaned. I was acting like a love-sick fool. I did not like this. I instead turned to homework and lost myself in the numbing monotony I so needed. 

~~~  
The next few days past the same way. It was gray. It was lonely. It was good. I walked in the hallways, jostled by people, but then Luca waved to me. Rising to be one of the popular guys, Luca deemed me worthy enough to give me a wave. I in return offered him a splintered smile. It was gray. Luca would peek in like a sun playing hide-n-seek behind the clouds throughout the day. 

People started to talk about me. I would be there, and they would be talking about a kid that Luca was being friendly with. They didn’t know my name, which was a relief .. but also saddened me. It was a bittersweet candy, a double edged sword. I was anonymous, but I was lonely that after four years they still don’t know my name. 

Dad always said that I was a ghost. There but had no physical impact on the world. “Henry, you’re like your mother. Invisible to the world, but I cherished and loved her.” That was before he himself became a ghost. 

I hoped that I would find someone like that - to love me as me and no one else. 

I snuggled deeper into the blankets. Their worn, soft embrace gave me comfort and warmth in the night. I thought of Luca Tate. It troubled me, that he could change me so deeply. I curled around tighter around myself and thought no more, for I fell into black velvet of oblivion. 

~~~  
The world shook off the remnants of winter, to usher in the soft, gay steps of Spring. Floating on a cloud of budding green and light yellow, the world awoke. The road was lined with grass that shone like emeralds. Birds twittered atop the wires. I walked. 

And avoided Luca Tate. It could be said that I, Henry Walters, was a coward. I shied away from change and anything that broke the grayness. Of course, they remained in pieces, but it was pieced together with cellotape. It would have to do for now. 

“Henry!”

My eyes caught questioning hazel eyes. “Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we were on our way to be good friends.” I frowned and hunched in on myself. 

“Luca! Man, what’re ya doing talking to that freak!” Hazel eyes hardened into flat brown. They burned a deadly flame. 

“Don’t talk to anyone like that, John. Go.” He waved a broad, calloused hand. “I’ll meet you in a bit.” 

The entourage sneered at me. I gave a tiny lift in my shoulders: what could I have done? They sneered some more and walked away. 

Luca shook his head. “It’s a wonder I still talk to them. Good for a laugh and some fun, but anything deeper is obsolete.”

“That is not fair. You cannot assume that they are shallow, ignorant people.”

“True,” Luca shrugged his broad shoulders. “But they give me no evidence to think otherwise.”

I eyed him and closed my locker. “Your accent is gone.”

A lop-sided smile illuminated his face. He swung his arm around me. I staggered under the heavy weight. “I have just gotten good at hiding it, but it was never strong to start with.” He grinned a slow-I-just-got-a-light-bulb-flashing-in-my-head-right-now smile. 

“You talked to me.” 

I glared sullenly. I broke my promise to avoid Luca and refuse all contact with him. 

“It has been months since I have been here, yet you just started to talk to me!” 

I glared some more and grunted. 

“I’m so happy! Wanna come over? I know it’s sudden, but I have video games, movies, music, my cello, and some other cool stuff. My Uncle has horses, dogs, and cats.”

“You have plans.”

He took out his cell phone and texted something. “Canceled.” He grinned. “There, come on. I have been dying to be your friend since I saw you.”

“Why?” I followed him, as if he tugged me by a leash around my neck. I couldn’t stop the gravity that I felt to him. I could no longer deny it, so I won’t. I just don’t like it. 

“Because you aren’t like the others, and you’re cool. You’re silent which is nice, but also very nice. Stubborn too.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m sure there are other things, but we can learn more about each other.”

“You’re dreadfully bright.”

“You’re dreadfully gloomy.”

He pushed me into his truck. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise.”


	2. Luca's POV

John muttered about something, with his hand wrapped firmly around his girlfriend. Luca grinned, easily taking up the back of the crowd. It was ridiculous, really, to transfer then he found himself in the popular crowd. It was certainly a change from his old school, but he didn’t mind. 

It was nice to have friends. 

His mind drifted to Henry. He tapped his pen rhythmically against the table. Henry with his quiet, reserved nature walking down that lonely road. Honestly, he would have froze to death if he did that, especially with those long miles to endure. He imagined his fingers carding through thick, black hair and green eyes opened with love. He wanted Henry to be open to him, and he felt they were going at it millimeter by millimeter. 

It was worth it. 

“... Tate!” 

“Huh?”

“Man,” John rolled his eyes. “You were blanking out.”

“Sorry,” he gave a rueful grin. “I was thinking of something.”

John nodded his head and turned around back to Maria, his girlfriend. Luca gave a small smile. Yes, they were friends in appearances, but they lacked essence. Mom used to say, “Friends are friends, but you’re true friends, Luca, honey, are the ones who will stick with you, thick or thin.” He wanted that with Henry. He was drawn to Heny, like a moth to a flame. He hoped that Henry would save him from the flame. 

“Oh, so, Luca, man, wanna go get pizza tonight?” 

“OK.”

“Awesome!” 

He was tired of pizza, but he can just not eat. Every Friday, like clockwork, he was invited to have pizza at the local diner. Honestly, he wanted his Dad’s cooking tonight - steak, mashed potatoes, and peas. The bell rang, and he went from class to class. 

He was heading out, when he saw a familiar back, adorned with a worn, slightly too big sweater. 

“Henry!” He turned around to face me. A tiny frown was on his face. I followed him to his locker, ignoring the curious gazes aimed at me. 

It blurted out before I could register it, “Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we were on our way to be good friends.”

He curled in on himself, still with that silly frown. Before he could answer, John yelled out, calling Henry a freak. A deep rage simmered in me. I responded with an answer, but I didn’t really care what I said. I wanted to hold Henry, with his sad expression, and make him laugh.

Instead, I confessed something about my friends and joked around with him. I broke my plans with John and Maria and the others (thank God). I was happy. I was. I dragged him to my truck, and I warned him of my family. The ride was in comfortable silence. I felt no need for chatter, nor would Henry welcome it.

Every so often, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. His hands were curled around the edges of his sweater’s sleeves. It was adorable in his too big clothing. His eyes were downcast, as he nibbled on his lower lip. 

I turned down the dirt road. “Wanna see the animals? I can show you my horse, good ole’ Autumn. A strong Chestnut.” He shrugged. “I can also show you the new filly, Maria. She’s a pretty black and white.”

“ … OK … if you want,” he trailed off. I grinned. I loved the horses, especially riding and losing myself in the nature rising around me. 

“Sweet! I think you’ll like Maria and Autumn.” I looked at him as I parked the truck. His mouth was open slightly. I chuckled. “Beautiful place, huh?” He nodded and gave me a slight grin. 

“Yea,” he whispered. 

Uncle’s home settled on top of a hill. The white, ranch house gleamed in the setting sun’s light. “It’s two story with a wrap around porch! In Florida, we lived in a small house, so it’s nice to have the room. Don’t have to share a room with my brother.”

“Does your brother go to Northwest High School?” 

“Nah, he goes to college, but he is here right now on winter break.” He nodded and continued to stare at the house.

“Come on, let’s go in. It’s freezing.” He opened the brown door and ushered Henry in. 

“Dad, Uncle Bobby, Ryan, I’m home!”

An older man with a weathered face open the door. “Sh, Bobby is sleeping. We just got back from a doctor’s appointment.” A weary glance came towards Henry. 

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Henry Walters, sir. Nice to meet you.” I grinned. He was so polite! It was cute.

“Dad, this is my friend.”

“Nice to meet you, son. I’m Mark.” He turned towards Luca. “Can you feed the animals, son? I have to go make dinner.”

“Where’s Ryan?”

“Out at his friend’s house.” I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, let me change.” Dad nodded and disappeared in the kitchen.

“Are you staying here for supper, Henry?”

He paused at the stairs and looked at me. I shrugged: if you want to, then I smiled: it would be nice.

“If it wouldn’t be any trouble, Mr. Tate.”

“No problem, kiddo, and call me Mark, please.” Henry gave a tense grin in reply and followed me to my room. 

It was a plain room, not yet fully mine in essence, since it was only a month or so since we moved. Henry went straight to the bookshelf and browsed my books. He skipped over the science fiction and fiction to go to the … well, the section that I hide when John or the others come over. It was a collection of essays and poetry organized by topic then in alphabetical order by author and title. He raised his eyebrows in silent question but didn’t speak. He grabbed the Edgar Allan Poe. He turned around and lifted the book in his hand. 

“You’ve read his works?”

I nodded my head. “Yea, I read poetry and stuff, but I don’t quite get it. It’s beautiful, though. I admire people who can write such beauty.”

He nodded his head and sat down on my bed. “It is beautiful.” 

I beamed. Henry Walters was having a conversation with me! It was a dream come true after so many months of silence. 

I brushed aside the curtains (forest green, floor length) and looked outside. The wind whipped around the branches. It was almost Spring, yet still cold. 

“Come on, we gotta feed the animals.”

Henry and I walked to the barn. I pushed open the heavy doors, breathing in the warm, earthy smell. I went to the feed room. I filled four buckets for the horses - Autumn, Maria, Aurora (Maria’s mother), and Judd (stallion, sire of Maria). 

“Can you dump the grain in the buckets? They’re hanging over the doors.” I pointed out the four stalls. Henry poured the grain in one at a time. He first gave Autumn’s grain. He giggled slightly at the warm puff of air and gently stroked his nose. He fed Judd, but he didn’t touch him. The black stallion moved, his muscles shining in the light. He poured in Maria’s grain and stroked the short black mane. 

“I like Maria,” he muttered then blushed. He fed Aurora, petting her soft ears.   
“What color is Aurora?” 

“A blue roan. She’s a beauty.”

“She is.”

“You ride Autumn?”

I approached Henry with a wheelbarrow of hay. “Gonna just throw these into the paddock, but yea. I ride Autumn. He’s brilliant. Dad rides Judd; you wouldn’t know it, but he loves the thrill of riding a difficult horse. Ryan doesn’t ride as much, but he would ride Autumn or Aurora.”

“How old are they?”

“Maria is nearing one. Aurora is eight. Judd is also eight, and Autumn is five.”

I threw the flakes of hay into the paddock. “Just gotta check the water, and we can eat supper.”

I put the wheelbarrow back and closed the barn door. “Do you have any animals?” I asked curiously. 

“No.”

“Have you ever ridden a horse?” I jumped up on the porch and swung open the door. I glanced back at Henry.

“Once at a fair. My mother brought me as a little kid.”

I laughed. “That’s really nice. I used to love doing that as a kid. I’ve been riding since I was little. We owned a small ranch with two horses, but they died.”

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“That’s okay. They were old.”

He and I washed our hands then sat down. Henry stroked the blue tablecloth.

“Is Uncle Bobby joining us for dinner?”

“No, he is too tired. Save him a plate.”

“What about Ryan?”

“Staying over his friend’s place.”

Dad set the dinner down and also sat down. 

“So, Henry, you’re also a senior?” 

“Yes.”

“Do you know where you’re going to college?”

He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat. “Probably won’t go to college.”

“Oh, why not?” Dad leaned back and dropped his fork. He was all for making your own decisions and living with the consequences, but he said to me that I had to go to college, at the least for liberal arts. 

“Um, even with financial aid, the money is tight.”

He furrowed his brows. Dad asked in concern, “Even to the state college?”

Henry shrugged his shoulders, uncomfortable. Silence descended on us like a thick fog. It choked our throats. Only the sounds of cutlery and chewing could be heard.

“Well, Dad, thanks for dinner,” I said breaking the silence. “You done, Henry?” He nodded. I grabbed both our plates and washed them. I placed them in the drying rack. “Ready to head home?”

“Yes,” he got up. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome, Henry. Come back anytime. Luca, I’m going to head to bed, so don’t make a lot of noise when you come back in.”

“Okay, bye, Dad!”

We headed out, down the road that stretched on and on. 

“Why’re you so far away from the town?”

Henry shrank down in his seat and smiled. “Dad likes the silence. He needs it for work.”

“What does your Dad do?”

“He’s a translator.”

“What does he translate?”

“Mostly German, Russian, Danish … the Slavic languages.”

“That’s so awesome!” I tapped the steering wheel. “I wish I was fluent in languages, but it’s not easy to learn. Are you fluent in any languages?”

Henry looked out the window. “Yea, I guess. Norwegian, and German.”

“Oh my God, that’s awesome!”

“Thanks.”

We drove on.

“You can drop me off here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea, thank you for the ride and letting me go over.”

“No problem! It was fun. We have to do it again some time.”

“ … Yea, we should.” He jumped out and disappeared down the little beaten path. I frowned, feeling uneasy leaving him in the dark, but he said it was fine. I drove off.


	3. Henry's POV

It was another week before Luca and I could talk. He would often smile at me in the hallways, but fate did not permit us to meet and talk again. 

I was sitting on a lunch table, enjoying the warmth of the sun. I was wrapped in my sweater, but it was good. It was satisfactory. 

“Nice day, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

Luca chuckled. He plopped down beside me. “Beautiful day.”

“Yea.” I looked down, ignoring the sudden warmth spreading across my chest. I flushed and fidgeted. “Won’t your friends wonder where you are?” He waved a careless hand. 

“I want to hang out with you,” he pouted. I was tempted to roll my eyes but frowned instead. I still felt too dirty to be in his presence, but it was manageable. 

His hazel eyes sparkled in the sunlight, shifting from green to brown and, curiously, to a light blue.

“You’re eyes are pretty,” I blurted out before I could stop. I gasped and winced. “Sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s okay! Thanks. You have pretty eyes too.”

I smiled. I hadn’t really looked at myself in the mirror in a long time. I shrugged. “Thank you.”

“So, what’s been happening to you the past week?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

I shrugged. I traced the knot of wood in the table. Everything was turning green again, etched in golden sunlight. It was pretty. Spring reminded me of Luca’s eyes and his blonde hair.

“Dad wants you over again. He likes you.”

“Okay.”

“Wanna go riding this weekend? I can teach you, and we can do it in the ring, if you want, then later on, we can go on the trails. I could also play the cello for you.”

“Um,” he trailed off. “Sure.”

“Is your Dad okay with it?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t want to talk about Dad. I glanced down at Luca’s hand. They were broad and unlike mine. I looked at my own hands, pale and slender. I was jealous of Luca. I wished that I wasn’t so me … so fragile and skinny. I was a ghost, a wisp of wind twisting in the infinite winds. Invisible except to the wind. 

I wanted that relationship, so loving and tender, like Dad and Mom had, but it was a lonely road. I heard the bell rang and hopped off the table. 

“Saturday?”

Luca beamed. “Sounds great!” He hesitated, looking like he wanted to do something, but then rushed off to his friends. His hand drifted to my face and gently stroked it. He bent down and kissed my lips, softly and chaste. I shook away my reveries. 

I shuffled inside. I couldn’t deny my feelings. I ignored them for so long, ever since I saw Luca in that fateful history class. I think I was gay. I frowned and clenched my fists. I liked Luca, but I didn’t like any of the other males. It didn’t make any sense to me. I gritted my teeth angrily. I wished it was a girl that noticed me, but it was not that easy. Instead, it had to be Luca - bright, happy Luca. 

It was only a dream, unreachable and sinking into the darkness. I knew that it would slip past my fingers, as if it was laughing at me, teasing me with the haziness of reality then twirling away. 

I sighed and leaned against my locker. It was empty and quiet. I was late to my next class, but I couldn’t be bothered. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I packed my backpack and left the school. 

It was the first time I ever skipped a day of school, excluding when I was sick. I was tired. It seeped into my bones, sinking me into the waters and choking me. My chest was heavy. I pushed open and distantly felt the sunlight bathing my face. 

I walked down that lonely world. I felt as if it was back at the beginning. Grayness seeped into the edges of my vision. Diluting the colors and washing away the brightness. I sighed. It was coming back, and it was good. It was the road and me again. The destination was home, a lonely house that sagged underneath a weight of darkness and sorrow. 

I was wrong. Nothing changed. Luca was only a tangible dream in the distance, and I foolishly hoped. I was optimistic, even though it was futile and obsolete from the beginning.


	4. Chapter 4

I blushed and burrowed my head in my arms. I almost kissed Henry at lunch today. I stopped at the last second, remembering where I was. I felt these feelings ever since I saw a quiet boy sitting in the back of the classroom. He met my eyes, his beautiful green eyes, then blushed and averted his gaze. 

I was in love ever since. 

I never believed in love at first sight, but something changed in me. I felt a need to be close at his side. I felt my heart melt into tender mushiness. I was scared of the changes, so I threw myself into schoolwork and the horses. I hanged out with my friends, but was never satisfied. I went through the motions of life, but Henry made a spark in my heart ignite and inflame joy in my very being. 

It was fate. 

I looked out the window to see a shadow scurry across the parking lot and down the road. There was only one person I knew that would walk home in that direction: Henry Walters. 

I shot up and waved my hand. John looked at me, but I ignored him. I felt bad for leaving my friends in the dust, but Henry was important to me. “May I go to the bathroom?” He waved me off and continued his lecture. I rushed out the classroom and bounded out the school. I started my truck and shot out the school parking lot like I was on fire. 

I was on fire. My heart thrummed with the need to be close to Henry. It was hot, and I felt ill. A flash of foreboding shot through me. I knew that if I didn’t catch Henry before he went down that beaten path, then I would lose him forever. 

I pressed the gas pedal to the floor. 

“Please, please, let me catch him!”

I saw his lone figure out of the corner of my eye. I screeched to a halt. He was turning down the path. I slammed shut my door.

“Henry! Henry!” I stumbled after him on shaking legs. “Henry!”

He turned around with a frown. His green eyes were narrowed and shuttered. He brushed back his black locks with a stiff hand. 

“What?”

I inhaled and grasped his cold, slender hands. I marveled at their slimness and ignored the electricity sizzling through me. 

“Henry, can you tell me the truth?”

He pursed his lips and stared down at our hands clasped together. His frown deepened. 

“Please?”

He exhaled and raised his eyes. I could see his irises through long, black eyelashes. They were cold and afraid.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I will.”

I breathed in deeply and was quiet. I licked my lips, unsure of how to ask such a delicate question. It would be unfair to Henry if I blurted something random. The moment would be lost, and Henry would disappear into the tall grass. This was my chance, and as Mom would say, “Darling, sometimes you have to reach for the stars, even if it seems impossible.”

I closed my eyes and felt his hand slipping away. “No! Wait,” I clenched them tighter in my own. 

I opened my mouth and recited:

It was many and many a year ago,  
In a kingdom by the sea,  
That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
By the name of Annabel Lee;  
And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,  
In this kingdom by the sea,  
But we loved with a love that was more than love—  
I and my Annabel Lee—  
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven  
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,  
In this kingdom by the sea,  
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling  
My beautiful Annabel Lee;  
So that her highborn kinsmen came  
And bore her away from me,  
To shut her up in a sepulchre  
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,  
Went envying her and me—  
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,  
In this kingdom by the sea)  
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,  
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love  
Of those who were older than we—  
Of many far wiser than we—  
And neither the angels in Heaven above  
Nor the demons down under the sea  
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;  
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;  
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side  
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,  
In her sepulchre there by the sea—  
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

A tear slipped past his closed eyes. I thumbed the tear away and kissed the corner  
of his lips. 

“I figured that Poe would have been a lot more romantic than me.”

Henry laughed, a quiet and short one, but a laugh nonetheless. He opened his eyes,  
his green eyes glowing in the light. 

“That was beautiful, Luca.”

“Thanks, Henry,” I whispered and hugged him closer to my body. I shivered at  
his cold touch, but I merely held him tighter, so he would be warmer. 

“I love you, Henry. I will love you even to death. I will cherish you, your quirks and  
all.”

I kissed his lips, briefly. They were warm and soft. I smiled. “This was not  
spontaneous, well, it was, but I grew to love you. Even though we didn’t talk in the   
beginning, I was always aware of you.” I breathed out. “Sorry, that sounds creepy,   
but it’s true. Believe me. I loved every single moment together, and I can’t wait to   
share my life with you.”

Henry clenched his hands in my shirt. He was silent for the longest time, but he   
remained in my arms. His black hair brushed against my neck. He raised his hands   
and gently caressed my face. It was a light touch, barely noticeable except for the   
warm trail left behind.

“But we loved with a love that was more than love,” he quoted back. He kissed the  
corner of my lips. “Okay,” he said.

I beamed and gave him a deeper kiss. 

“I love you.”

He blushed, echoing the sun’s early morning glow. 

“I love you, too.”


	5. Chapter 5

Colors seeped back into existence. It was dazzling and breathtaking. I was alive, and I never   
wish for that grayness to return. The emptiness of the gray would break me. So empty and   
lonely was I, but everything was alright now. It was the truth. I will not lie to myself   
anymore. 

I love Luca, and he loves me.

Finis


End file.
